


Escape

by QuietlyImplode



Series: Rescue Me [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Hallucinations, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, Natasha Romanov-centric, Natasha is not in a good place, Paranoia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:47:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27343771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuietlyImplode/pseuds/QuietlyImplode
Summary: Recovery is never a straight line. It’s a long haul.——Natasha’s awareness comes slowly.Steve’s in front her her. “Come on, failure, get up.”She can’t.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Natasha Romanov & Avengers Team
Series: Rescue Me [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1984783
Comments: 4
Kudos: 59





	Escape

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings for disordered thinking and self isolation, hallucinations and general paranoid thinking. Please let me know if you need me to put any other tags in. 
> 
> I’m starting to think I should have made this into a chaptered fic, but we’re here now so 9 down, 21 to go. Sorry about clogging the tags.

“You deserve this. You failed. You failed and you need to be punished.” Clint says.

“Who are you to even think that you deserve our comfort, our trust? You know nothing of being strong.” Steve adds.

“Stay away.” Fury warns.

“Who is going to want you, after you failed so spectacularly? Taken out so quickly, so quietly and never fighting back. What kind of spy are you?” Tony mocks.

“You knew they were coming, and you still failed. What would Uncle Ivan think? Would he punish you? Would he punish all of us for your mistakes?” Pepper taunts.

“No.” Natasha moans. “No.”  
.  
Lifting her head and pushing her palms into her eyes, the apparitions disappear, as if they were never there. 

They’re right though. She’s failed. She failed her body, her mind and apparently the whole team. She needs to get out of here. She’s still on painkillers, but the wounds across her wrists and ankles are bandaged and the cuts are closing. Day 5 she thinks? Maybe day six? It couldn’t possibly be seven days. Every movement is pain but only her ribs are broken and there’s no reason she should be sitting still. She’s just endangering everyone by being here.

Deciding quickly, before she loses her nerve she moves off of her bed in Stark Tower. She warns Friday with the threat of rebooting if she’s narked on, and packs a small back pack of clothes, her phone and some food. She gets changed, and untangles her hair with a brush; the movements painful but grounding; giving her drive to be done quicker; leave and protect the tower.

She takes the stairs down, figuring no-one else would be dumb enough to look there. She’s not wrong but completely regrets it and is exhausted and out of breath by the time she’s at the ground floor. She sits on the last step, clutching her midsection, hates herself for being out of commission the last week. Pushing herself she keeps going.

Using her phone to call a cab, heading into the city, the driver makes small talk and she’s incognito enough not to be recognised and pays enough to be forgotten.  
She instructs him to drop her at Tomlinson Square Park. She’s fading fast but sheer force of will gets her out of the cab and onto the bench seat to rest. Why were there so many bumps on the road? Did he know? And deliberately take her the most painful way? 

Everything fucking hurts. Pulling her hood over her head she bundles deeper into her coat, glad that this isn’t triggering, pulling the sides away from her neck.  
Gathering strength, grabbing her bag and pushing off. She heads further into Alphabet City, heading down a side street. She didn’t fucking think this through; needing to climb up the wall in order to get inside the apartment unbeknownst to anyone at the front. She slides down the brick wall.  
Knees to chest she curls in ball.  
Sits on her bag.  
If she closes her eyes.

Just for a minute.

Rest.  
..  
..

She’s woken by pain radiating through her midsection and quickly bought to consciousness by the sound of a stray cat, meowing, and pushing rubbish off the nearby dumpster.

She’s in more pain now than she was before, more exhausted that she can remember being.

It takes a monumental effort to stand and get her bearings.

Oh yeah.  
She’s at her bolt hole in Alphabet City.

Breathing heavily, Natasha winces as she reaches and climbs, up on the dumpster then jumping to pull herself onto the ledge. Jimmying the window loose she wedges her body inside and falls into the room. She’s made it. But just. Using the last bit of energy, she manages to make it to the sink and throws up.

Fuck.  
She rinses her mouth out and grabs a bottle of water and falls into the bed nearby. She doesn’t even make sure the door is locked but she’s too far gone to care.

.  
When she wakes up again, it’s only to use the toilet and get some more water. Sipping it slowly, she closes her eyes and goes back to sleep.  
.

The windows still open and the cat comes in looking for warmth. It finds the only other source of heat in the room. The human seems not to notice and it settles down, wary but warm.  
.

Hungry the cat nudges the human. They haven’t moved in a while, and the cat wonders if it’s made a mistake. Nudging the human gently, it moans. More insistent now, a soft meow is enough to wake the human up.

Observant eyes look at the cat, no trace of sleep now on the humans face.

The cat heads towards the window, scared that it’s insistence had offended the human.  
“Right. Window.” The human mutters.  
“You’re here now.” The human heads to the fridge pulls out some water and a can of tuna and leaves it on the bench. The cat watches the human head into another room, the sound of running water and pipes running.  
Heading back to bed, without food or drink, the human says nothing. It matters not, fed and watered the cat heads outside again. Hopes that the window stays open, liking having a warm place to sleep.  
.

Natasha’s awareness comes slowly.  
Steve’s in front her her. “Come on, failure, get up.”  
She can’t.  
She rolls over and the apparition disappears.  
.

Her body betrays her hours later. Hunger presses in on her but she chooses to ignore it. Grabbing the bottle next to the bed she sips it slowly. The bandages on Her wrists have come undone and the wound underneath has cracked open. Moving gingerly she can feel other wounds that have opened. Natasha groans. Sees Clint in the corner.  
“What?” She fires are him, voice non-existent due to lack of use.  
“I should send you back. Tell the Red Room where you are, I wonder if they still want you.”  
“Shut up.” She throws the bottle and he disappears.  
Closing her eyes, Natasha falls.  
.

The windows still open two days later. The cat’s thankful to escape the rain. It wonders if the human is still inside.  
They are.

Curling up next to them, the cat purrs softly. The humans looking and smelling a bit worse for wear since it was last here. The cat wonders if the human should be woken. Deciding it might get another meal out of it, the cat nuzzles close to the human, long hair getting tangled in the cats paws.

The human is less aware now than before, it takes a lot more to wake them up.  
The human regards the cat, eyes are sad.  
“Hi cat.” She whispers,  
“You’re real, right?”  
Mewing softly, the cat nudges it’s head into the human’s hands.


End file.
